


1997

by wrabbit



Series: Trans-Atlantic [3]
Category: Kingsman (Movies)
Genre: 1997 UK Election, Bathroom Sex, Bottom Harry Hart, Face-Fucking, M/M, Semi-Public Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-06
Updated: 2020-12-06
Packaged: 2021-03-10 07:22:03
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,239
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27846790
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/wrabbit/pseuds/wrabbit
Summary: A party, a horse race, and Galahad on his knees.
Relationships: Harry Hart | Galahad/Merlin, Merlin/OMC
Series: Trans-Atlantic [3]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2031097
Kudos: 5





	1997

**Author's Note:**

> This can be read as a stand-alone.

The party was either winding down or winding up depending on one's perspective. Inevitably, some kind of gravity drew Merlin over to Harry and Will, still standing around with a group of elder agents. Sensing trouble, no doubt. They were gossiping about something, surrounded by glasses of ice and dregs and shed cufflinks on the high top tables. Unbuttoned collars, drinks in hand. Erec was just holding a bottle of single malt. That was never good. 

"Hamish," Harry greeted him, amused by something, hiding it.

"Galahad," Merlin answered suspiciously. He turned to the others.

"Did you hear?" Percival puffed out his chest, waving his cognac. 

"Hear what?"

"Galahad here has received a message from your old friend in the opposition." He looked around pointedly. Merlin glared at Galahad, who rocked on his heels and put on a guileless face. 

"Apparently she’s had enough of your frigid touch and she’s releasing the papers to those in the know," Percival continued, theatrically, "And it's all coming out tonight. In parliament. On the eve of the election!"

In other words, Galahad had been paying visits to a secretary with an ear for secrets, who after years of caution and careful management had now decided she'd better sell the next spicy thing she got her hands on and run off to Greece at last. 

Or whatever the fuck she intended to do with her pay-out. All this after Merlin had quite clearly and strongly urged Galahad not to excite her.

So that was a source blown its load, Merlin's last now that he was retired from the field. Seduced, balled up, and tossed in the recycling bin. 

Not clever enough to understand that the juiciest secrets were of the least import, she'd get her money, and her non-disclosure, and they'd never hear from her again. Great. Good. Jolly. But damn she'd been good. Not Merlin's masterpiece, but possibly the most high-maintenance and sauciest informant they had. 

He supposed he should be glad that Harry restrained himself for so long. 

And here Percival, always too political, such a terrible quality for a spy, had been coveting her for years. The things she knew, the affairs, the money, the corruption! And Merlin, too timid, too stick in the mud to be running her! Well, she was leaking now. Perfect timing for Percival. As if any of that extracurricular faff was going to make a difference.

"Come on, Major!" Percival announced, like it was a game of craps and their loaded die was about to pay out. He turned. "Miriam! Where's the channel thingy! Turn on Parliament!" 

He really was that much of a blow-hard, Merlin marvelled. Galahad choked on his drink and turned his head. Merlin caught Will hiding a smile, and Erec turned an eye roll into an elaborate look around. Hector was frowning hard but he always was. Only Percival was clueless. 

Merlin excused himself. He'd lost his drink somewhere and picked up a flute of champagne that he thought might have been his, or close enough. He finished it on the way to the bathroom. Congratu-fucking-lations to Galahad, then. 

"Could you be more of an arse!" Merlin shouted when a distinct gait trailed him into the bathroom a few minutes later, soles crisp on the tile floor. 

"In my defence," Harry was saying, shouting over Merlin and the running water to be heard, "She couldn't bear the secrecy any longer. And Santorini is so beautiful this time of year."

Merlin finished washing his hands and turned, only to encounter Harry not pissing or walking away like he should but dropping to one knee on the bathroom floor and making an absolute parody of himself. "Can't you forgive me, dear?" 

"I was saving that one."

"She was outs," Harry insisted, chin rising.

Merlin scoffed, and stepped back to walk around Harry and his absurd demonstration.

"Let me make it up to you." Harry stopped Merlin with a hand on his knee. He raised his eyebrows, and tilted his head, doe eyes. 

"Oh no." Merlin's palm came to Harry's forehead, holding him back when he kneeled up. "Absolutely not. You don't get to win me over this way." 

No longer, anyway. He wasn't some wide-eyed trainee to be run around by Harry Hart's manners and audacity and legs anymore. He couldn't quite bring himself to step away though, or to stop Harry from groping the pleat of his trousers, feeling Merlin already at half mast from the sight of him there. 

There was nothing penitent about Harry Hart on his knees. Right on the filthy floor, tie loose, cheeks flushed. Hair a mess. Still in his suit trousers. It made Merlin's blood boil with the urge to knock him down and crush his face in the piss, or fuck him, or knock him down and fuck him. 

"Please, Merlin, may I suck your cock?"

"No." 

"Fuck my mouth, then," Harry countered lowly, and popped open a button with two fingers.

Merlin took his head and ground his crotch against his infuriating, pretty face.

"That's it," Harry said, panting when Merlin pushed him away again, thumbs on his cheeks. At least he was pleased, Merlin thought, unbuttoning his trousers and taking Harry by his hair. 

"Do you forgive me?" Harry asked, more sincerely, as much as he could be with that glint in his eye and his thumb already venturing around Merlin's testicles in his briefs, always as brazen as anything. 

"You've made a mess, Galahad," he said, just because. But his shoulders dropped. "That was my operation."

"Yes," Harry breathed. "I'm about to make it up to you, though. In cash," he clarified when Merlin glared down at him. 

"Excuse me?" Merlin pulled his hair back, and Harry stretched his neck, grunting. 

"Let's just say Percy's horse is about to take a tumble," Harry panted, his mouth falling open as he smiled up at Merlin. 

Merlin could only gape at him. Now who was playing political games. 

"Come on, dear, show me how angry you are. Don't be nice." 

Merlin fucked his mouth, staccato and furious and furiously turned on. Harry took everything he had to give him, and more, moaning and swallowing hungrily around Merlin's cock while Merlin insulted his filthy whore mother and mouth and dog and body. 

Harry slapped Merlin's ass when he finished, smoothed his own hair, and waltzed out without washing his hands. 

"Unbelievable," Merlin commented to the empty room. 

He was leaning against the sink, not ready to rejoin the circus, and smiling a little despite himself, blaming it on the champagne when Will stepped in on his heels. Deliberate, and clearly in the know. He examined the scene with his hands in his pockets. 

"I see you've made up," he commented. 

Merlin turned on the faucet to wash his hands again, embarrassed to be caught in the act with the madman. He looked up and had to roll his eyes when Will slid an arm around his back and smiled in the mirror. He was rosy with wine. 

Will planted a kiss on Merlin's cheekbone. "Come home with me tonight," he said.

Merlin saw himself flush in the mirror. "Alright," he agreed, and was lost in Will's sparkling blue eyes, his grin blooming on Merlin's shoulder. 

They both looked up at the cheers and the banging of cups and shouting that erupted from the party. Galahad and Percival, screaming at each other. "Why is he like this?"


End file.
